tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post652488878182617622..comments2024-03-26T00:10:40.751-04:00Comments on Reggie Darling: Reggie's Greatest Regret In LifeReggie Darlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04044215790585354363noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-51712433723979337412011-05-15T18:37:46.486-04:002011-05-15T18:37:46.486-04:00In my line of work I love working with sites like ...In my line of work I love working with sites like this cause I can tell your passionate about your family and these wonderful stories. Keep posting its nice to read this kind of stuff. http://www.onlinemarketingman.comAxekilerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17817695870389638057noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-18556131450581173812011-05-11T01:47:05.174-04:002011-05-11T01:47:05.174-04:00Oh! I remember this long and really great post I ...Oh! I remember this long and really great post I wrote......<br /><br />and it is nowhere!<br /><br />Unsafe at any speed on the internet......I will try to remember and post again!<br /><br />I have tremendous empathy!<br /><br />PenelopeAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-41592701456774182902011-04-28T22:41:58.064-04:002011-04-28T22:41:58.064-04:00No, I went through the British American Educationa...No, I went through the British American Educational Foundation... Run then by a very stern and proper Mrs Denise(?) van Pelt Bryan. My older brother, who also had gone through the BAEF, called her the "Dragon Lady" as he was prepping me for my interview. I came down from Middlesex my senior year to meet with her. The train was late, and I put my foot in a huge pile of dog mess rushing to get to the interview. She still placed me.... and she was actually a lovely woman. My year in England was an amazing experience.<br /><br />I had a great grandmother that lived in Grosse Pointe, it would seem, at the same time you did. She lived in NYC on Park Ave and then in the Manhattan House when it opened. She was married six times. Her fourth... or was it fifth?... lived in Grosse Pointe. His second or third? She moved there and I have pictures of the house which was substantial and on water. (Never been there, so I have no idea where it was.) His surname was Reynolds, and no she did not marry for money, as she had buckets from her own family. (Although, I don't think his family was all too pleased by the nuptuals.) My mother jokes that her grandmother had six husbands over the course of fifty-five years... and the same chauffeur for thirty-two. "She should have married Maurice".<br /><br />I'm thoroughly enjoying reading through your posts. Cheers!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-33425660219454537492011-04-28T05:26:49.565-04:002011-04-28T05:26:49.565-04:00Anon 10:24: Thank you for your comment, it was mos...Anon 10:24: Thank you for your comment, it was most amusing. Were you, by any chance, also an ESU scholar when you went to boarding school in England?Reggie Darlinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04044215790585354363noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-33183548004897430742011-04-27T22:24:23.856-04:002011-04-27T22:24:23.856-04:00Good Lord that was funny and particularly timely. ...Good Lord that was funny and particularly timely. I am in month number two of piano lessons for my five year old twin boys. At 44 I am learning along side the children and we are loving it. As a child I had a "Polo" sucking, German tyrant who hit my knuckles with a ruler when I hit the wrong key. I ran for the hills when he'd come to the house. I'm determined to keep piano a positive experience for my boys.<br /><br />I, too, tried to be musical once again at boarding school in England the year after graduating from "St Grotlesex". This time it was the cello. WHAT a disaster! <br /><br />This post brought back a flood of memories. Thanks so much!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-6152853171876187882011-02-20T20:31:46.174-05:002011-02-20T20:31:46.174-05:00Ha! as a long-term lurker and ex alumni of sherbor...Ha! as a long-term lurker and ex alumni of sherborne girls I now wonder how old you are and whether the choral society of which you speak was conducted by Patrick Shelley and Augusta Miller! Anyway. I'm sorry Mrs Whipple was such a horror.Go back and visit the abbey some day, it is still beautiful enough to move one to tears (and it smells the same too).Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-10818182033061401582011-02-02T15:21:39.582-05:002011-02-02T15:21:39.582-05:00Reggie...my friend, The Zhush gushed on and on abo...Reggie...my friend, The Zhush gushed on and on about you the other night. So, here I am!!<br /><br />Piano. Oh, my, the therapy I could use b/c of piano lessons. 12 years worth, twice a week. I really can't play today. I begged to quit. I sneaked away from lessons. Nothing worked. So, from age 6 to 18 I laborously took piano lessons with the talented Mrs. Bianchi.<br /><br />The take away....if a child really, really says they do not enjoy a certain lesson/sport/activity, do not continue to force it upon them.<br /><br />And, that's that!<br /><br />~ ElizabethAnonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15395215787881578608noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-49682609041481353022011-01-28T10:09:03.129-05:002011-01-28T10:09:03.129-05:00Reggie,darling,Need I say- you are in the best of ...Reggie,darling,Need I say- you are in the best of company with these comments, I only add-I have my own regrets with years of lessons and the same as an adult-& still aspire-with no piano in sight. My childhood piano teacher Mrs W. died in the fall and there is a story I want to tell-suffice it to say-this is where I got all my "social graces", at the bench,-if lacking in the skills of making music. GayeP.Gaye Tapp at Little Auguryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15115534755711063462noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-76312304573554804502011-01-24T19:24:16.118-05:002011-01-24T19:24:16.118-05:00My father was a professional musician and a child ...My father was a professional musician and a child prodigy. I have absolutely no musical talent. My musical career was much shorter than yours. About 15 seconds. <br />I have however, been very successful at dating musicians. :)Dandyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02048326517764291061noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-48069660917405387012011-01-24T12:27:36.480-05:002011-01-24T12:27:36.480-05:00Very funny look back at what must have been not-so...Very funny look back at what must have been not-so-funny at the time. <br /><br />I always wished I could sing. "Stand in the back and mouth the words" were my instructions in music class - back in the day, when we still had music classes.Patsyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02840629057159581688noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-9619245224651516162011-01-24T08:02:38.550-05:002011-01-24T08:02:38.550-05:00Reggie Dear: You are absolutely right. The Frenc...Reggie Dear: You are absolutely right. The French Horn? What was I thinking? As it turned out, the Bugle - no moving parts - was better suited to my abilities. Your Loving Brother, FreckyAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-63385425090095818822011-01-24T06:14:21.855-05:002011-01-24T06:14:21.855-05:00Dear Reggie, I found your blog through your commen...Dear Reggie, I found your blog through your comment on Edith Hope's blog. I loved your post, but like many of the commenters, I found it very sad. There must be so many children who were put off by very similar experiences.<br />I believe music pupils need enthusiastic encouragement if they are to succeed. Learning the tunes of popular songs is just as good a way of finding your way around the notes as any, and friends and family will be far more likely to applaud a song they recognise.<br />Best wishes, VictoriaVictoria Summerleyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05055381807236106596noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-58948853867746426422011-01-23T22:45:07.810-05:002011-01-23T22:45:07.810-05:00Such a funny post! I played piano for 12 years, b...Such a funny post! I played piano for 12 years, but now when I sit down at one, the only song I can play start to finish is "Memory" from Cats. The shame!DMhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15435206223622005832noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-45967558807359614272011-01-23T20:26:46.534-05:002011-01-23T20:26:46.534-05:00Dear Reggie,
I’ve missed you! What a wonderful da...Dear Reggie,<br /><br />I’ve missed you! What a wonderful day to return to your blog. I laughed all the way through it!<br />Like your brother, I tried the French horn. I pity the person who plays this instrument. Like you, I wanted a fun instrument, a bluesy, jazzy, extroverted instrument, but instead somehow I ended up playing the French horn where my biggest goal was not to be last chair. At the time the band teacher told me I had perfect lips for that instrument! Who knows what that was supposed to mean! The parts that instrument has usually involved holding a note and counting measures till finally you could switch to a different note. And then the idea of draining the spit out the mouthpiece onto the floor? And sticking your hand down the horn? Who’s ever heard of that?<br />But piano! My experiences make me laugh today, but at the time I dreaded showing up at Mrs. Freiheit’s house. My worst memory is how while struggling through a piece she’d assigned, she hollered, “You are ruining what used to be my favorite piece!” I started to cry and she threw tissues at me and said “here baby, use these.” My sister who took lessons with me and I decided we wouldn’t tell our mother. Years later when we did, my mother was really angry though Mrs. Freiheit was already long dead. Too bad, it would have been fun to see what my mother may have said to this awful woman. I just wish I hadn’t cried and could have had a smart response. <br />Your pictures are so fun, Reggie! You are wonderful.janfawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02562967571742574117noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-74761908033328871402011-01-23T19:46:00.032-05:002011-01-23T19:46:00.032-05:00I myself is also pressured to play the piano back ...I myself is also pressured to play the piano back when I was a child. But it turned out that I am good in playing the guitar instead.EFT Therapyhttp://efttappingtechniques.com/eft-tapping/eft-therapy-2/eft-therapy-beach/noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-84578911624838776992011-01-23T14:24:22.810-05:002011-01-23T14:24:22.810-05:00Charming story, you've really tinkled my keys ...Charming story, you've really tinkled my keys with this one. Side note: don't give up.Paul Gervais de Bédéehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14483589339393580019noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-1934808131625881992011-01-23T13:13:19.832-05:002011-01-23T13:13:19.832-05:00Wonderful post!! You may not have mastered the pia...Wonderful post!! You may not have mastered the piano but your creativity has found many other wonderful ways of expressing itself. My youngest is actually quite an accomplished pianist and wants to quit - she hates to practice. I've let her cut back on practicing hours and encouraged her teacher to give her a couple fun contemporary pieces (like Christmas songs) to hopefully keep her engaged. Her teacher says that most of her students lose interest at this age (6th grade) and then get back into it in a year or two - just have to keep her in there!quintessencehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14484326999396839391noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-59122643910600176732011-01-23T12:06:11.706-05:002011-01-23T12:06:11.706-05:00Oh Reggie...how I hated that piano! My mother ass...Oh Reggie...how I hated that piano! My mother assured me that being able to play was the way to be invited to all the best parties! Was she crazy? Who ever played the piano at any (high school) party in the '60's? I was useless at it anyhow...I'm sure my teacher was thrilled when I quit.<br />Naturally, my mother said I would be sorry and (sigh), I am. I, too, tried again in my 40's, having become addicted to watching Lucia play Moonlight Sonata at her musical evenings. I wanted to BE Lucia...I wanted her clothes and her car and Georgie too. No luck at all..I just can't seem to carry a tune and was happy to see the old piano trucked off to who knows where.GRAYSONFAVOURhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00395420253863103741noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-16803948324088868562011-01-22T23:10:21.530-05:002011-01-22T23:10:21.530-05:00Oh, Reggie, I laughed out loud! My teacher, Siste...Oh, Reggie, I laughed out loud! My teacher, Sister Regina Marie, fired me from piano lessons - much to my mother's dismay. When I was 50 I, too, gave it another go. Another disaster! I ended up trading my piano for Ken Lay's telescope (acquired by my wasband at the Enron auction). Everyone is happy.yoga teacherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05551998007150554947noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-28141629698941032052011-01-22T21:10:41.542-05:002011-01-22T21:10:41.542-05:00Oh Reggie, Reggie that's almost my story of pl...Oh Reggie, Reggie that's almost my story of playing the piano. After six whole expensive years of tuition I passed Grade 2 but must add 'with merit' of which I was inordinately proud. <br /><br /> I revisited the piano as an adult but stopped when my precocious son did a devastating imitation of me playing Fur Elise. He nailed it exactly: fluent in the easy parts and then stumbling comically when the bars got dense with black notes. As I kid I drove my family mad with the easy to play version of Younger Than Springtime.Rose C'est La Viehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17193872186283731567noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-43055728573017327982011-01-22T15:04:04.295-05:002011-01-22T15:04:04.295-05:00After reading some of the other comments, I sudden...After reading some of the other comments, I suddenly feel a bit guilty for laughing so riotously while perusing this blog entry. I suppose these two music teachers could have tried harder, exhibited more patience, or been a bit less forthright when it came to Reggie's piano-learning disability, but that would have made the story much less amusing for me. <br /><br />Like some others here, I can certainly relate to young Reggie's experience. I too took lessons but after several years of trying my best, it became obvious to me that the piano was just not my thing. I knew it. My teacher knew it. My parents knew it. Upcoming recitals eventually became a nightmare. Thank God that darling, old Mrs. Livingston finally blurted out the truth one day. To my great surprise, my parents didn't seem the least bit disappointed to know my piano playing days were coming to an end. I'd always assumed they enjoyed my playing, and a desire to to please them was my only real motivation for sticking with it for so long, but it turned out my keyboard racket was, in fact, very unpleasant for anyone in earshot. So, in the end, the truth had set us all free! <br /><br />My Mrs. Livingston also looked a bit like Reggie's Mrs. Lee, although Mr. L's hair was always pulled back in a tight bun which was then wrapped in a braid. She sometimes appeared stern but, in retrospect, I think she may well have been the sweetest person I ever knew. I remember finding Mrs. Livingston's house fascinating and strange but pleasant too. Though it was large and beautifully furnished, everything inside was starting to fall apart - the upholstery was shot and the rugs were all threadbare, etc. Strangest of all, though, were the many framed paintings of a young (and very naked) woman that were scattered throughout her home. Evidently the late Mr. Livingston had been a painter, and his beautiful bride had been his favorite model. My prepubescent heart was so conflicted by the realization that the kind, grandmotherly lady who sat at my right side on that bench was the same buxom, nude, twenty-somthing woman who stared out from the oil painting above the piano. Sorry, I'm rambling now...I guess I just wanted to make the point that despite my lack of talent regarding that particular behemoth of a musical instument, those years of piano lessons were not a complete loss. My inability to properly tickle the ivories doesn't prevent me from looking back at those piano lessons with fondness and good humor, and I get the impression that Reggie might just feel the same way.Ryanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12183744621319137043noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-85422926344054316442011-01-22T13:35:42.093-05:002011-01-22T13:35:42.093-05:00As long as you can play the radio, you are the lif...As long as you can play the radio, you are the life of our party.Lucindavillehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16706865784070675588noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-9288324539200840502011-01-22T12:56:20.909-05:002011-01-22T12:56:20.909-05:00Reggie, I feel your pain, being part of a family w...Reggie, I feel your pain, being part of a family where everyone and<br />anyone can sit down at the piano and play remarkably well, with varying<br />degrees of skill. Never could pull it off, which is doubly frustrating when<br />like you, I am one of those persons who can hear a song twice, get all<br />the notes right and memorize the lyrics, verses included. I've often expressed this frustration to my mother, whose response is always the<br />same: "You can draw, paint, sew, write and cook~what more do you want?"Toby Worthingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05887066048372484464noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-12422203149878317052011-01-22T12:49:26.127-05:002011-01-22T12:49:26.127-05:00As someone whose musical talents consist of being ...As someone whose musical talents consist of being able to carry a tune (in a CD box...)I managed to escape the instrumental lessons. I always felt sorry for you and Izzy slaving away at your respective red pianos in freezing converted porches. Was it supposed to be morally superior to practice in a room where you needed gloves to play?<br /><br />As for singing show tunes - we all did. I have many fond memories of you, me, and Izzy singing along with LPs. I can still dredge up most of the words to My Fair Lady, and Oliver. Oh, dear. Now I have an earworm of Just you wait, Henry Higgins!<br /><br />XOX,<br />HermioneAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8044541580633294348.post-1475452077697172832011-01-22T11:39:17.826-05:002011-01-22T11:39:17.826-05:00"At least you take your music with you wheree..."At least you take your music with you whereever you go."<br /><br />I love the arc of this observation by LPC. Bears repeating.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com